London Angel - Closure
by derpette-Waffle
Summary: It is Dan's time yet.


_**A/N: This is the final epilogue to my other Phan fic, London Angel; go read that first! Feels warning.**_

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Dan grabbed his keys and headed out the door, phone clenched tightly in his hand. "Don't talk to me like that, I'm on my way, I'll be there in ten minutes." He jogged out to the car, hanging up on his son. He gripped the wheel tight as he drove; Wolfie could be unbelievable sometimes, always being disrespectful and hounding him when Dan did anything less than perfect. When Dan had adopted him, it had honestly been because he reminded him of Phil, and now he had turned out nothing like him…

Dan heaved a deep breath when he hit a red light, trying to calm down. He loved his son, really, he did. But Wolfie was eleven years old now and starting his rebellious phase, which was already proving a definite strain on his father. Dan had already been barely holding himself together over the years; his little boy had been his reason to keep going, the only thing to really live for in a hasty decision after moving back with his parents, after Phil died.

His phone rang –Wolfie was calling again. Dan tried to keep himself from blowing up as he decided not to answer it. Today really wasn't the day for this.

The phone stopped ringing, but a moment later started up again. He had to answer, he couldn't just keep ignoring his child like this, no matter how frustrated he was. He took a deep breath and pressed the button to answer. "Wolf?"

'Dad, why can't I go over to Tim's house tonight?'

Dan sighed. They'd been over this ten times. "Because I'm going down to Manchester tonight and you already told me that Tim's parents can't drive you home. Nobody's gonna be able to get you home until I come back on Wednesday and I'm not comfortable with you being out of the house when I'm out of town. Plus Nanna's gonna need you at home." Dan had never moved out of his parents' house after he came back, and from a conversation he'd accidentally overheard, his parents were worried to let him move out, anyway. They still thought he was gonna do something stupid.

'Well why do you need to go to Manchester, anyway?'

Because that's where his husband was buried; because it was the tenth anniversary of the day he died. "Because I do, okay? Get your stuff together and wait for me outside the school, I'm on my way."

'I've been waiting outside for ten minutes and it's raining! Whatever, I'll fucking walk home.'

"Wolfie, don't-"

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When he woke up, he couldn't make the connection between driving to his son's school and lying here on a strangely familiar sofa. He couldn't remember what had happened. He was now propped up on a comfortable cushion… his sofa crease. There was no mistaking it, even after all these years: this was his goddamn sofa crease.

His eyes shot open to find a lounge long left behind. No, this couldn't be possible; he'd moved out years ago, when the memories in this place became too much. He jumped to his feet and, in a haze of confusion, navigated the familiar path to the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror.

He was his younger self, aged eyes staring at the face of a twenty-two-year-old. He touched his cheek, refusing to believe that this was real. He needed to wake up from this strange dream. The first idea to come to mind was to slap himself in the face, and he went with that.

"Ow!" he cried out, turning to find that he had not woken up. This couldn't be real, though. He was supposed to be picking his son up from school, arguing with him and dropping him off with his parents where they lived with them still, and heading up to Manchester that night to visit the cemetery and-

"Dan?"

No. No, that voice, it couldn't be…

"Phil…?"

He heard footsteps rushing closer, and then the familiar man was in the doorway.

Dan couldn't believe what he was seeing. His husband was long dead, his thin, fragile form buried ten years ago next week. But he looked so healthy here, now; he looked just as he did before the his illness was even an idea in their minds. Skin wasn't gripping tight to bones, his hair was dark and grown out, and his eyes were sparkling and full of life and… fear.

"Dan…" he breathed out, stepping closer. Tears looked to be building up in those bright blue orbs, something Dan hated seeing when he looked like he was supposed to be well. "Dan, no. No, it wasn't your time."

And then it hit him that this maybe wasn't a dream. "Where am I?" he asked dumbly, needing answers and trusting Phil to give them.

"Heaven: our interpretation of it." He took a deep breath. "Did you know that soul mates have the same idea of heaven? Ours is in our apartment –before the cancer thing, of course." They could stay just like that for eternity, but if there was a way to send Dan back…

"I'm dead?" Dan's mouth opened and closed like a fish, stunned at the idea.

Phil huffed out a nervous laugh, bringing his hands up to his husband's shoulders but pulling them back immediately. "You must be, if you're here. That or close to it."

Things slowly started to come back to mind. He'd been driving down a busy road, come to an intersection, not paying attention. And he was t-boned.

Dan held his hands out to go and hold him, but Phil reeled back. Dan was heartbroken. "What's wrong? It's been so long, and now you're here in front of me. I-I need to hold you." He hated sounding so broken, but this was far too overwhelming and he wanted his husband in his arms again.

"I'm sorry, Dan. Maybe there's still a chance for you to go back, but if you touch anything here, there's no turning back."

"Even… Even you?"

Phil nodded sadly, eyes downcast. He wanted to be in Dan's arms so badly, but now was no time to think of himself. "I'll call the Higher Authority."

Dan nodded mutely as Phil pulled out what looked like his regular phone and stepped out of the room. Dan fell back against the shower door, waiting in stunned silence as he waited for his husband, whom he couldn't touch, to return.

Phil's eyes were a bit sunken when he returned, obviously heavily burdened when he was supposed to be at eternal rest. Dan wanted to hold him so badly, but he needed to resist it for now.

"Dan… If you walk out the front door, you'll get to go back until it's really your time. Don't touch anything until you have to turn the knob. They're giving you a chance, babe."

Dan looked down for a long moment. "And… if I don't want to go back?"

Phil shook his head. "Dan, you-"

"These last ten years have been spent without you and I've barely been surviving. I have the chance to get back to the rest of eternity with you in happiness; no pain, no illness, nothing but the two of us in love. You really expect me to give that up?" He didn't mean to be raising his voice.

"You have a son now, Dan, and he needs you. I've been watching over you, you know. Every time you wanted to end it all, then pulled back; it kills me to watch you suffer down there, and I know why. You feel guilty, you feel like you didn't do enough to help and you've never been able to let go of the fact that you knew I was gonna die that night, but didn't do anything, didn't even say goodbye. You can't deny it, Dan, I've been watching you."

He stepped closer, staring him dead in the eyes, stern but with a softer look to them than Dan had expecting. Phil wasn't bitter over it, it was almost as if he was trying to comfort Dan. "I want you now to know that I never, ever wanted you to feel the least bit bad about that. I love you and I will still be here in fifty or so years when it's time for you to join me."

Phil stepped aside now, out from in front of the bathroom door. He seemed calmer now, if barely holding his composure. "Now go back to your son, Dan. He needs his father, and you need a chance to live your life to the fullest again. I'll be right here waiting."

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_**A/N: Hope you enjoyed x**_


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